


Lonely little cat. . .

by Subtle_Shenanigans



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Akuma, Akumatized Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Angst, Apocolyptic, Canon Compliant, Chat Blanc - Freeform, Chat Blanc Spoilers, Death, Emptiness, Gen, Hallucinations?, Heartbreak, Humming, Loneliness, Lonely Chat, Others Mentioned - Freeform, PTSD?, Psychotic break, atmosphere, bad timeline, do not repost to another site, hes dealing with, je parle un peut de français, mental break down, mentioned miraculous square, murder mention, no beta we die like men, not sure how to describe what mental condition(s), tags are spoilers sorta, unintentional murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-02-01 06:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21424525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Subtle_Shenanigans/pseuds/Subtle_Shenanigans
Summary: ’Un petit chat sur un toitse languit sans sa lady.’It echoes, lonely, midst hollow buildings and deep waters.———————That’s the problem with time travel; it’s delicate. You can’t just drop someone off at the epicenter of the event.In which Bunnyx can’t drop off minibug until sometime after.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 16
Kudos: 149





	Lonely little cat. . .

**Author's Note:**

> Look I’m missing some episodes and I don’t care because this one messed me up. He wasn’t akumatized because of Marinette or a break up. He had a mental breakdown over his father and the situation. And that. . .they handled the episode so well. It was _raw_.
> 
> Also the atmosphere/animation was gorgeous!
> 
> This is about how long Adrien was there alone because that’s the thought that’s been keeping me up.

The first thing he does is break the surface, gasping for air and gagging as water makes its way down his throat. He doesn’t understand what is happening, or why he’s crying, or who he is- there is only the need to _live_.

Once he’s pulling himself, soaking wet onto La Tour Eiffel, he collapses.

  
He remembers.

And he wishes he had drowned.

There’s no one there to hear as he screams, long and loud and _broken_, for something and nothing and anything.

The sound travels, echos off of the new flooding, and then dies.

  
It is quiet.

* * *

With <strike>father</strike> Hakwmoth gone there is no one to control the Akuma. No one to direct or order or make a deal. So his skin burns and itches and he gnashes fangs, lashing his magical, leather tail, snarling with pent up energy and nowhere to direct it.

He can’t detransform - doesn’t even consider it. Adrien is gone, and far as Chat Blanc is considered Plagg doesn’t exist. The need for any bodily functions is null and void with the corrupt butterfly supplying him with all the power he needs.

The moments where he’s lucid, he remembers; Marinette, Ladybug, _his lady_\- but these thoughts remind him of what’s happened, what he’s done, and the broken howl that wrenches out of him scares away what few birds have remained since Paris’ destruction.

He should dive into the Seine and stay there.

But he won’t; this is his punishment. He has to fix this, or endure insanity while trying.

* * *

When he is not lucid he wanders in memory. Has conversations with figurative ghosts, practices on an imaginary piano, wanders across the twisted architecture that Paris has become.

Then he remembers, forgets half-way; has frenzies with no meaning that seize him with blinding _hurt_. He wakes up randomly, eyes clearing and realizing he’s atop some random rooftop and the sun is in a different position, or gone, the broken moon like a sentinel.

The only times of peace that don’t bring pain are those where he sits, humming, voice low:

_‘Un petit chat sur un toit,_

_se languit sans sa lady._

_humm dumm dm hm. ._ .’   
  
  


It’s his happy song, from before. Perhaps a little lonely, but comforting in this disquieting world.

* * *

Chat Blanc knows nothing of time.

He tears his claws into metal and _twists_; yowls mournfully; cries, laughing hysterically, screaming, scr_eaming, scre**aming**_-!

Speaks to those long dead who may as well be strangers; playfully teases the sea birds that hover overhead; stretches in the sun, mind blank as the glassy waters below him.

He sings and hums and comes as close to Adrien as he can in this state.

Time isn’t real. With a city dead beneath his feet and not a soul to speak too.

  
  


“Un petit chat sur on toit, se languit sans sa lady. . .”

**Author's Note:**

> Ends sorta weird, sorry.


End file.
